


For The Horde

by hannelore



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannelore/pseuds/hannelore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vol'jin was sure Thrall would have joined them at the Battle of Razor Hill. Vol'jin wants an apology and Thrall needs a lesson in humility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Horde

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pauraque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauraque/gifts).



> Por la Horda! <3

Vol'jin stood at the gates of Orgimmar, lifting his head to scent the air. It was all steel and oil, he could barely smell the smoke from any burning fire that didn't smell foul. Thrall stood next to him, but instead of being appalled, he looked humbled.

"Perhaps Garrosh made a city more worthy of Orgrim than I did."

Vol'jin shook his head in disgust. "It is not a city that should be to honor one's memory, it is nothing but the shattered remains of a bloody war. You know what happened inside dis city... it's an insult to my people and yours to think of it fondly."

Thrall lowered his head, but then nodded slowly. Vol'jin felt some regret for being so harsh. But not enough regret to forgive Thrall for abandoning them at Razor Hill.

"My path is clearer than ever before," Thrall said. "Now that you are Warchief, I can truly feel my center, my purpose."

Vol'jin sighed. "Even now, always so selfish."

Thrall looked at him, shocked and angered. "You would deny me my peace?"

"Dis has always been about you." Vol'jin said, turning to look squarely at Thrall. "You place leaders and pawns in places in a way that is beneficial to you. Even as you named me Warchief, you offered no guidance, no path. Where is your conscience? Where is your grief?"

Thrall gaped at him as if unable to speak. Without warning, the ground seemed to tremble under their feet, dark grooves in the soil deepening where Thrall stood.

"You have no idea of my grief or the trials I have suffered." he said quietly.

"You couldn't have proven my point any better." Vol'jin replied. "Me, _my_ , mine. You dress yourself in humble robes, but you are no less powerful than when you wore leather and rode into battle. I know who you are, what you have become. But I have not forgiven you for abandonin' us at Razor Hill. And you have not asked for forgiveness."

The ground settled again and Thrall looked perplexed, even a little dazed. There was an eerie silence, only the harsh cry of a hawk sailing overhead, over the gate into Orgrimmar. Thrall looked up at it, watching its flight before his gaze returned to Vol'jin.

"I did not feel that I deserved to stay in your company. I did fear for Eitrigg, for Saurfang, that much is true. If you charge me with not properly preparing you for the mantle of Warchief, it is because I have lost it for so long, I no longer know how to lead."

"You could have fought with us." Vol'jin said. "We could have entered Orgrimmar together, Nazgrim might have even had a chance..."

"Will you not rest until every death lies at my feet?" Thrall said bitterly. "I saw Nazgrim before he was killed, when he allowed Varok and I to enter Orgrimmar."

"Chen, Baine, we all --"

"Enough." Thrall turned his back on the city, his shoulders hunched. Vol'jin hated to hear the defeat in Thrall's voice. He wanted to hear the roar, the determination, the fierceness he had once known.

"Where is the arm that raised the hammer prepared to dispatch Garrosh Hellscream?" Vol'jin said.

Thrall looked down at his hammer and his fist clenched tightly upon its handle.

"That decision should have been mine."

Vol'jin chuckled underneath his breath. "Now, there are the words of my brother. Don't pretend you are satisfied with bein' denied that blow. There is no audience here as there was in the Underhold, there is only you and I."

Thrall turned to Vol'jin and now Vol'jin saw, at last, Thrall's true pain. Not the quiet sorrow, but the raw unguarded fury and anguish.

"I put that murderer in power. I will never forgive myself."

"Maybe you could, if you started by forgivin' those who still live. You walked into Orgrimmar with a death wish, didn't you? You were prepared to die. Now even justice has been taken away from you, the one thing you wanted."

"I have heard of the Battle of Razor Hill," Thrall said, his voice thick with emotion. "You led them well in the rebellion, you brought the fight to Garrosh's feet. You succeeded in ways I never could have imagined, to even unite the Alliance with the Horde to battle such a foe."

Vol'jin shrugged. "I would have done it without the Alliance, but Baine convinced me otherwise and he was right. He is truly Cairn's son."

"I wish... I wish I had been there to see it," Thrall said, his voice even more pained and distant. "I wish I could have seen the Horde rise together against Garrosh's armies."

Vol'jin put his hand on Thrall's shoulder.

"Try again."

Thrall took in a deep, shuddering breath. "Forgive me for abandoning you, old friend. Forgive me for abandoning our companions. We should have stayed together."

Vol'jin's hand tightened on Thrall's shoulder and he gently steered him back to face Orgrimmar, the hulking iron gates of Garrosh's oppression rising above them.

"I will forgive you, but first I must tell you that I intend to raze Orgrimmar."

"Destroy it?" Thrall said with shock. "Why?"

"Too much has happened within its walls." Vol'jin said grimly. "As Warchief, my first decision will to make a new Horde city."

"But where?"

"Where it all began." Vol'jin said with a sly grin. "In Razor Hill."

"But it is barely a town as it now stands." Thrall said, puzzled. "Only a few buildings, hardly a city for a Warchief."

"Indeed." Vol'jin said. "Which is why Razor Hill deserves much for its part in this war. We will build a few more buildings, but not many. There will be none of these steel-barbed towers, I will craft a city that represents the Horde's first beginnings. Garrosh wanted a fortress, but I want a home."

Thrall smiled faintly. "It does make sense. But will Orgrimmar be gone forever?"

"With your help, it will be a place of peace. The goblins need their own home, I've been talkin' to Gallywix about that. They like their inventions, their steam and smoke, but it's something that doesn't mingle well with the likes of the tauren. It will be known as a place where shamans and druids gather, I will let the spirits heal it as best they can... and the land that was once the city of Orgrimmar will heal, perhaps with your help."

"Yes," Thrall said. He let out a deep sigh, but he still smiled. "I would like to do that, to seal off Ragefire Chasm, to bring peace to the spirits there. Perhaps, in time, it could be my new home. To be honest, the Den isn't much of a home for Aggra and Durak..."

"Don't forget," Vol'jin said with a grin, "you promised to follow me. There will be time to raise your son, but I need you to help Varok to bring all the Kor'kron to me. I will decide where their allegiance lies."

Thrall nodded solemnly. "A wise decision. Will you dismantle my -- I mean, your guard?"

"Strong warriors follow strength." Vol'jin said. "But if I find their hearts are still with Garrosh, I will deal with them. But I want all the Kor'kron brought to me, even those in Undercity. Sylvanas deserves to have her city back under her guard, not ours."

"I know I chose well." Thrall said as he mounted his wolf, looking at Vol'jin now astride his raptor. "You are worthy of the title of Warchief."

Vol'jin grinned. _I know_ , he thought. But to be polite, just this time, he did not speak this aloud.

"I thank you."


End file.
